


It Was Only Just A Dream

by EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Crying, Death, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Langst, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, No beta reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recurring Dreams, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Suicidal Keith (Voltron), Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Visions, We Die Like Men, and I’m trying hard not to screw up characterization, but I’m currently obsessing over fma, i should probably actually proofread this, implied PTSD, klance, parental shiro, probably too late tho, themes of death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-06-24 10:58:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15629277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix/pseuds/EclipseTheMegaFandomMultimix
Summary: “K-keith? What are you doing?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Voltron fan fiction ~~that I’m actually posting~~ just in time for S7! Who’s ready ~~not me, that’s for sure~~
> 
> Also, I’m sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors I didn’t bother to read this over.

An echo.

Lance strained his ears to make out what was making the noise, but it was too far away.

He started moving forwards, one hand on the wall, feeling his way along the cold passage. Lance peered into the murk ahead of him, trying to see something that would lead him to the source of the sounds. He tilted his head as the odd echo came bouncing along the hallway towards him again. A muffled clicking... no, it was more like tapping, like footsteps running down a hallway.

“H-hello?” Lance called down the long passage. “I-is anyone there?” His question returned in an eerie crescendo, the words distorted so that the Blue paladin barely recognized his own voice.

No answer.

Lance swallowed hard, and tried for the umpteenth time to contact his team. But he was met with the same result as before; a staticky fuzzing that was completely indiscernible. Sighing, Lance tugged his inoperable helmet off his head again. Unfortunately, the comm link wasn’t the only thing wrong with it. Aside from the icon in the top rihght corner of the display that showed him Blue’s location, none of the other systems in the helmet were functioning.

A sudden flurry of skittering erupted from behind Lance. He whirled around, bayard already in blaster form. A rat, glowing and fat and green, sat about three meters away, staring placidly at the paladin. Lance let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and lowered his weapon. He watched as the bioluminescent rodent sat up on its haunches, twitching its long, feeler-like whiskers. Suddenly, the noise, louder and more urgent, started up again. The rat twitched, and scampered off in the direction of the echo. Its glowing fur illuminated the walls around it, causing the passage to glean with a soft, green light. Lance realized this was his best chance at finding the source of the sounds, and took off running after the emerald rat.

Despite the animal’s small size, it quickly outdistanced the long-legged Paladin. Lance was left gasping, trying to catch his breath, as the bobbing green iridescence traveled ever farther from him.

“W-wait! Come, huff, back!” Panting, he leaned against the cold metal wall, and watched the light slowly fade out.

“Great job, Lance. You let the only thing that knows what the _hell_ is going on get away,” berating himself, Lance slid slowly down to the ground. He leaned his back against the cold metal, and sighed. He contemplated what his options were; maybe he could try to fix the helmet, get at least the tracker working. But he was no engineering guru like Hunk, or technical genius like Pidge, and he didn’t know the first thing about the paladin suits. He might unintentionally make things worse; who knows, there probably was a self-destruct feature in the helmet. So, that was out of the question. Lance studied his bayard, shrugged, and concentrated on it, trying to morph it into something that he could use, like a flashlight. After a few minutes, he gave u

p and threw the blaster to the side. _Yeah, stupid idea_. Lance ran his fingers through his hair.

A sudden noise from right behind him launched Lance onto his feet. Grabbing frantically for his bayard, Lance whirled around and aimed his gun into the murk. Right next to where he had been sitting, an even deeper blackness stood. _Doorway_ , his mind supplied, but that thought didn’t comfort Lance at all. And the fact that he could have sworn there was nothing there a moment ago was even more disconcerting.

He snapped to attention when the noise repeated. A muffled, wet slapping. And, quietly at first, but growing louder, a low keening sound. Lance would never admit it, but he was shaking with pure terror. The sounds got even louder and louder, until it was a swirling crescendo, seething around Lance. Disoriented, he stumbled backwards (or, at least, what he interpreted as backwards) and nearly tripped over something. Lance peered down, and had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to choke him.

Nyma lay halfway in the tunnel, spread-eagle and mouth open. A gaping wound in her neck was oozing blood, and the rest of her body was littered with scratches and bruises. Her clothes were spattered with blood, and they were torn into shreds.

Horrified, Lance backed away from her body, shaking

his head.

“No, no, no no no no no no NO!” his panicked cries were swallowed by the dark hole in front of him. Lance dragged his eyes away from her body and saw that the whole corridor was full of bodies; Galra soldiers, Balmerans, Olkari, humans, Unilu, Arusians, Krellians, Taujeerians, Puigans and countless others lay there, bodies contorted and twisted together in a horrific mess of limbs, all of them brutally, violently _murdered_ , throats ripped out and stomachs clawed open, blood and organs spilling everywhere. Some of the alien blood was pulsing with a sickly yellow light, illuminating the scene.

Wide eyed and shuddering, Lance pressed up against the wall, clutching his blaster to his chest as of it could protect him from the horrors before him. Whimpering, he fixed his eyes on the icon of Blue, drawing comfort from the solid presence of his lion. Nearly sobbing with the fear, Lance pushed the comm button over and over and over, trying desperately to contact someone, anyone that could take him away from this nightmare.

Lance snapped his attention back to the bloody hallway. He could have sworn something moved in there, down at the very end. Eyes wide and fearful, Lance slowly raised his blaster to his shoulder, training it on the spot he saw the movement.

There, a twitch. Something definitely moved, but from the distance and overall darkness, Lance couldn’t tell what was moving or how much. He swallowed, hard. Trembling all over, he slowly raised himself from the floor, taking care not to make a sound. Lance began advancing towards the thing, inch by inch,

never taking his eyes off the end of the tunnel. If there were survivors down there, he had to help. He repeated it like a mantra, _I have to help, I have to help_ , trying not to whimper as he stepped on a green lung, or knocked into someone’s cracked skull.

Edging closer to the moving figure, Lance was able to see that the piles of bodies were growing steadily larger, with more creatures, and increasingly horrific details. When he stepped on something that squished horribly, Lance chanced to look down. The body of the Puigan he was standing on had definite bites missing from it. _Bites_. Lance shuddered, and retched violently. Whatever, or _whoever_ , had slaughtered all these people had actually eaten some of their kill after. Lance felt ready to vomit, and was half glad that he had skipped breakfast that morning.

Lance was crying, tears streaming down his face freely, he honestly, he honestly didn’t care anymore, he just wanted this nightmare to end. But it didn’t, and the figure that came into view brought a new _horrible_ twist.

A dark, pulsating mass of torn flesh and coarse hair, with claws the size of kitchen knives and a single glinting yellow eye. The creature was covered in multi-colored blood from the other bodies, and a dark red liquid oozed out of its own sides.

Lance froze up, unable to move from the spot, or even scream at

at this new horror. He tried to respond in some way, anything that might save his life, because Lance knew, if that _thing_ saw him, it would kill him as painfully and violently as it did the others. Sobbing silently, he took a soft step backwards, praying to every god he ever heard of to _please, please, let it be asleep, let it not see me, let me go home, please let me go home_. He made it five steps, and then he stepped on some poor alien’s long, spindly fingers.

A hollow crunching sound reverberated around the passage, made all the louder by the deathly silence. Lance stopped dead in his tracks, trembling and terrified. He watched, as, ever so slowly, a dark purple eyelid slid up, revealing a single, glowing, golden eye.

Time, when only moments ago it was a rushing, swirling river, now seemed to have gone down to a trickle; Lance could hear every heartbeat as a loud, comically over-exaggerated _thump_ , see the dust particles fall down from the ceiling and settle onto his eyelashes, followed as a single drop of blood pooled at the end of a green tinged limb and drop, falling sluggishly, softly, landing in a puddle of the same ooze. In awed terror, he watched as the dark creature’s head swung around to face him, both flaming, luminous eyes settle onto his quivering body. The thing cocked its head, gentle and unthreatening, sizing up this new prey. It sat there, nearly totally still, watching for a sign of weakness. Lance stared back, taking in everything about his enemy that could be useful later.

Suddenly, a pair of large, purple ears flicked up from the alien’s head, startling Lance. He flailed back, accidentally squeezing the trigger. A flash of bright blue light shot at the creature, and it jumped away, snarling and baring fangs as long as Lance’s face. The Blue paladin fully expected it to attack him then, but instead it just settled, sitting down a few feet away from the scorch mark the blaster left. Lance, thoroughly unnerved, started to back away slowly, thinking it might let him go. He continued staring into those yellow orbs, trying to gauge the thing’s next move.

When he got ten or fifteen meters away from it, Lance turned tail and ran. He made it another five meters before glancing back at the thing, only to find an empty patch of metal where it had been sitting before. Lance stopped immediately and grabbed his blaster, raising it defensively, and revolving slowly in one spot. The near pitch-black made it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead of him, and the constantly pulsing blood was making things worse.

If Lance had been panicking before, he was having a full-on meltdown at this point. Still turning around and around, training his blaster on any imagined flicker of movement, he backed slowly up to the wall. Pressing up to the cold metal surface, Lance peered around him, attempting desperately to discern what lay in the shadows.Hyperventilating, he started edging

along the wall, pushing his back against the hard surface and trying to not stumble. _If I can reach the end of the tunnel, I can get out, if I can reach the end of the tunnel, I can get out_.

Unfortunately, Lance almost walked into a pile of bodies. He couldn’t climb over it, and he couldn’t get around it without leaving the wall. Shuddering, and whipping his blaster around, Lance slowly edged out to the center of the hallway, and started walking around the pile. He cringed every time something under his foot crunched, but he was past the point where he watched where he stepped. These people were already dead, anyway, and Lance had no intention of joining them anytime soon. Still, it pained him each time some new liquid soaked his boots, or he snapped an already broken bone.

A dripping noise from behind him whirled Lance around. It could just have been some poor soul’s fluids pooling, but this sounded louder, more echoey, as if the droplets had had to fall a longer distance to reach the ground. Staring around the hallway, glaring into every shadow, Lance felt something on his shoulder. A horrible, sinking feeling settled in Lance’s stomach, as he looked over and saw a dark red droplet on his armour. As he watched another glistening ruby dripped onto his once white suit.

Lance slowly raised his eyes to the ceiling, and saw two, glistening, beautiful, luminous eyes. A Cheshire Cat-like smile, that looked like it would split the creature’s face in two, showed off its fangs. Fangs, stained, dripping with blood.

Lance screamed, a throat-shattering scream that reverberated around the entire hallway, echoing back in mocking copies that surrounded Lance, and tore into his mind, just as the creature dropped onto him, ripping, slashing his skin, his flesh, blood pouring out in torrents, drowning both of them, and Lance screamed and screamed and _screamed_ , until it tore his throat out and he couldn’t scream anymore, only let out a wet gurgle, as he slipped, slipped into a welcoming darkness...

 

Lance woke up. Gasping and confused, Lance slowly came back to his senses. He gripped his bedsheets, trying to ground himself. He was in the castle, he was in his own room, he was safe, he was alive, nothing was coming to get him. Slowly, his heart rate and breathing evened out. Lance shuddered, remembering the vivid details of his nightmare, how he could feel the death in the air, lingering and chilling everything. Shaking slightly, he stood up from his bed and made his way over to the bathroom. Lance stood in front of the mirror and stared back at his reflection.

Clad in pajamas, horrible bed hair, and with deep circles under his eyes, Lance could easily surmise that he looked _awful_. He sighed, and splashed some water on his face. He started to turn the lights off to go back to sleep, but at the last moment decided to leave the fluorescent bulbs on. Clambering awkwardly back under the covers, he sighed again, and tried to fall back asleep. Instead, he spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to erase the memory of the dream. It was only in the early hours of morning that he finally managed to drift off into a fitful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but it's pretty important because EXPOSITION!! ~~in the form of langst~~
> 
> I’m not really happy with this chapter (I’m awful at writing dialogue, and the Shiro/Lance interaction just about KILLED ME), and also writer’s block is a thing. This chapter probably took me about 12 hours total to write, so I haven’t bothered to check it over. Please excuse any spelling/grammar errors, I’ll probably read this over tomorrow, I just need to post this ~~or else I’ll keep obsessing over it and it will never be done~~. Hope y’all enjoy!
> 
> **I am now going to try to stick to a schedule with this fic, and I'll be updating every Friday ~~no promises once school starts in three weeks, though!~~**

The next morning, Lance overslept. A lot. So much so that the other paladins became worried that something major was wrong. Finally, Coran and Pidge decided to unlock Lance’s door, and soon Shiro and co. were barging into the Blue paladin’s room, ready to help their friend, whether he wanted it or not. What none of them expected, however, was to find said friend still asleep; albeit, asleep on the floor, tangled up in his bedsheets.

Shiro walked over to Lance, and knelt down next to his sleeping frame. He gently touched Lance’s shoulder, trying to wake the younger Paladin.

“Woah, I’m up, I’m up!” Jarred awake, Lance shot up, and stared around wildly.

“What’s going on, are we under attack or something?” Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lance clambered upright, shooting confused looks at the congregation in his room. Allura stepped forward, and gave him a concerned look.

“No, nothing of the sort, it’s just that, you were sleeping well into the afternoon, and we grew worried that you were ill, or perhaps injured.”

“Oh,” Lance rubbed his head sheepishly, internally cursing himself. “Well, I’m perfectly fine! No injuries whatsoever, and I’m pretty sure that I’m not sick. So...” he clapped his hands together and shot them one of his trademark smiles, all glimmering teeth and false mirth, “You guys can go back to what you were doing!”

The other paladins looked at each other, then back at Lance, contemplating his words. Lance walked over to the door and gestured to the hallway; a clear invitation for the others to _leave_.

“Well, I guess, if you’re not injured?” Hunk quirked his eyebrows at the Blue Paladin, before ducking his head and slowly walking out of the room. Pidge hesitated before following her large friend, fiddling with the edges of her sleeves. She glanced up at Lance, who immediately flashed her a gleaming smile.

“Woah, no need to blind me! I get it, you’re good!” Shielding her eyes, Pidge also left the room, followed by Keith, who was looking even more dour than usual, if that was even possible. Allura stepped up to the door, and put a hand on Lance’s shoulder. Normally, that would have made Lance grin, and make a dumb joke, but now he just _really_ wanted to be alone. The princess looked like she wanted to say something, but decided against it, and with a final look at Lance left as well. Coran cast an appraising glance over the Blue Paladin, before shrugging lightly and accompanying Allura out the door. Lance took a deep breath, and turned back into his room.

Shiro was still standing in the middle of the room, a concerned look plastered on his face.

“Shiro, come on, I told you, I’m fine! There’s nothing wrong with me, except maybe the fact that I can’t seem to get any privacy on this ship,” he chuckled halfheartedly, trying to ignore his oncoming headache, and sent another blinding grin at the Black Paladin.

Shiro stared at Lance, as if trying to gauge exactly how many lies were concealed by that smile, but eventually gave in. Sighing, he approached Lance, who balked at the intensity in the older man’s eyes. Shiro put his normal hand on the younger Paladin’s shoulder.

“Lance. I know you don’t feel comfortable discussing your nightmares with the rest of the team, but please, reconsider your choice to keep this a secret. They may not know exactly what’s going on, but they definitely know that there is something wrong with you. They want to help, and so do I, but if you won’t open up…” Shiro trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes. He seemed to mentally shake himself, and his eyes refocused on Lance, “The dreams will only get worse. Trust me, I know. _Please_ , Lance. At least, just tell _me_ what they are about?”

Lance shrugged out of Shiro’s grip. Yes, it was true that the dreams had been going on for months now, and yes it was true that Lance was much worse for wear because of it. So what? As long as he kept it together in the middle of a fight, who cared? So what if he woke up, night after night, drenched in a cold sweat, heart pounding in his head and throat and chest. So what, if, after waking up, he sat in a corner of his bathroom, crying till he choked, till the tears streaming down his face started suffocating him? So what if he was scared to be alone, and every night when he went to his room he played music on his headphones, as loud as it could go to try and drown out the overpowering silence that being alone entailed? SO WHAT if he couldn’t look his teammates in the eye and tell them he dreamed about each of them dying in the same ways _over_ and _over_ again, every single _fucking_ night, their screams and tears imprinted in his mind, his heart, his skin, his _everything_. And the horrible, horrible feeling that they were more than dreams, because you don’t just dream the same thing for months on end, starting from the night a bolt of dark magic shot through you, erasing everything, wiping out the world, because that’s what it felt like, that’s the only way to describe the feeling, powerless, and empty, and meaningless...

“I’m fine.”

Lance whirled around, staring at a point on the wall and trying desperately to regain his composure. He fixed his mask back on, a mask made of meaningless jokes and laughter, and faced Shiro again.

“I know that Shiro, but, I just don’t think I really need to talk to anyone. I have it handled; you know that they’re getting better, too!”

Except the nightmares weren’t getting better. He has just gotten better at hiding them, silently working through the haze of fear, and making his way back to the Castle of Lions. He hadn’t given any notice of his nightmares for the past month and a half, it was just this one, where he saw _his own death_ that he accidentally showed it.

“Still, I’d feel better if you at least…”

“SHIRO! I’m FINE! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT! LANCE IS A-OKAY!!”

Panting slightly, and with glistening eyes, Lance faced down Shiro. A flurry of unreadable emotions flashed across the other’s face, before being wiped away. An impassive expression rested on Shiro’s face as he slowly walked to the door and opened it. He glanced back one final time, before stepping out of the room.

Wasting no time, Lance rushed to the keypad, and violently jammed his finger against it, closing the door. Furiously, he punched in his code, locking the door again. He sank against the cold surface, and finally let the tears out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance is **FINE** Shiro, why do you not understand this?
> 
> More will be revealed about these nightmares next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, look at that, I actually decided to get off my ass and write! Haha!  
> As a note, I didn't have my beta-reader check this, and it only went through minimal proofreading. I will try to write more and have more chapters up for this fic (hopefully even finishing it), since it is NaNoWriMo and I'm trying to reach a pretty ambitious goal of 100,000 words. So, expect more chapters! Maybe even today, since I don't have any homework!
> 
> Also, as another note:  
> I don't ship Shaladins, despite the oddly Shlance moments in this fic. This is not hate on shippers, go ship whatever you want (the art is adorable), I'm just saying that this fic isn't meant to be Shlance; if you check the tags it's got background Klance in it. I love Space Dad, and so this is purely Parental!Shiro, but feel free to interpret it any way you like.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!

No one saw Lance all day.

He remained barricaded in his room, the only signs of his existence being a muffled ‘thump’ every now and again. The other paladins tried asking Shiro what the shouting had been about, but the Black Paladin refused to tell them something that was “between Lance and himself, only”. Eventually, they all gave up on pestering the older man, and went their separate ways; Keith to the training deck, Hunk to the kitchen, Pidge to her room, and Allura and Coran to the bridge.

Shiro paced the castle, wandering up and down the numerous hallways. Sometimes he went past the corridor that led to Lance’s room, and he would pause for a moment. Shiro would stare down the length of the darkened hall, a contemplative look on his face. After a second or so, the black paladin would move on.

Sighing, Shiro trudged towards the bridge, thinking maybe he could look over the Galra’s movements again. After all, constant analysis might yield some kind of answer. Lost in thought, Shiro almost walked into Pidge, who had just emerged from her room.

“Oh! Sorry Pidge, my bad,” Shiro sidestepped the short girl, stumbling a little in his attempts not to squash her.

Pidge looked up at him, a slightly amused glimmer in her eyes.

“Something on your mind, Shiro? Or am I just that short?”

“Ah, no, I was just… lost in thought I guess. Thinking about Lance.”

“Oh?” The mischievous gleam intensified. “Have those baby blues drawn you in Shiro? Or was it the, er, _natural charm_?

“W-WHAT!? P-p-pidge! That- that is very inappropriate! I don’t… I have a… ABSOLUTELY NOT!!” spluttering, Shiro covered his burning red face.

Pidge was chuckling, her shoulders shaking as she wiped tears of mirth from under her glasses.

“I know I know, don’t worry I wasn’t being serious Shiro,” her expression immediately sobered. “I’m a little worried about him too. I mean, Lance is usually so airy, but, I don’t know. I just felt something off about him this morning? I’ve known Lance for a long time. The guy is notorious about his beauty routine, and whines about being tired all the time, but I’ve never known him to sleep in late. I’m not really sure what his explanation is, but I hope he talks to someone about it.”

Shiro shifted uncomfortably.

“Whelp, I promised Hunk I’d help him fix one of the ring capacitors on the lower levels; it burned out and it’s not vital, but hey! Let’s keep the Castle in good shape while we can!” The green paladin raced off towards her makeshift workshop, sending a small wave over her shoulder. Shiro reciprocated it, and he continued on his way.

‘The explanation, huh?’ Shiro’s thoughts churned even more, if that was possible. ‘The explanation is there, it’s just not that easy to explain **it**.’

_Five weeks ago, Shiro was walking along this same hallway. It was late, and almost everyone else in the castle was asleep. Shiro knew that Coran was probably still working on maximizing the Teludav; they couldn’t risk another malfunction, and the elderly Altean barely slept to begin with._

__

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_Shiro, himself, was having trouble sleeping. An old nightmare, from his days as the Champion, surfaced in his dreams. A few minutes prior, he had woken up in a cold sweat, shaking and holding his metal arm in a death grip. He had gotten up and went down to the kitchens, hoping to find something warm to soothe his nerves._

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S _hiro was walking back to his room with a cup of steaming milk when he heard it._

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_A low keening sound, broken apart by choking sobs. Shiro’s heart rate rocketed, and he placed the mug he was carrying on the ground. Completely quiet, he listened intently, trying to discern the direction of the noise._

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_Shiro slowly made his way towards whatever was making the sound, and realized that it was coming from the general direction of Lance’s room. Sudden images flashed through his mind; images of Lance, taken by the Galra, a metal arm like his, or perhaps even worse, with scars both physical and mental, scars that will never heal…_

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_Shiro knew these were irrational fears. They were on the Castle of Lions, far from any Galra territories and buried deep in friendly territory. But perhaps the night terrors had lowered his defenses, because Shiro suddenly couldn’t comprehend anything rationally._

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_With a racing heart, Shiro pounded along the corridors, reaching Lance’s room in a few seconds._

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_Trembling, Shiro pushed the button to open the blue paladin’s door. With a soft hiss, the door opened, revealing the room. Lance lay on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He was letting the noise escape through slightly parted lips, and his body was contorted in pain. He was clawing at his clothes, at the carpet, his hair._

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_Shiro entered the room, practically flying over to the younger man’s side. Steadying the sobbing paladin, Shiro gently shook Lance’s shoulder._

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_“Lance! Lance, wake up, it’s alright, it’s fine.”_

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_Blinking blearily and with tears still tracing his cheeks, Lance came to. He looked up at Shiro, and burst into tears with newly restored vigour. Shiro rubbed his back soothingly, murmuring “it’s alright, Lance, you’re on the ship, it’s fine”. Shiro frantically checked Lance for any injuries, and upon finding none, allowed himself to relax a bit. Lance wasn’t in any danger._

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_“Sh-shiro,” hiccoughing, Lance gripped Shiro’s shirt in his hands. “You-you’re Shiro? Y-you aren’t...this is the C-castle?”_

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_“Yes, don’t worry Lance it was just a dream. Calm down. It’s alright,” Shiro continued rubbing the smaller’s back._

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_ “B-but, I, I _saw _you. You were d-dead, they k-killed you Shiro. A-a-and I…”_

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_“I’m not dead Lance, we’re right here on the ship. Everyone is fine, we’re in Alliance Territory, don’t worry.”_

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_Lance suddenly surged upwards, grabbing Shiro’s collar and yanking him down till their faces were almost touching._

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_ “N-NO! Y-you don’t _understand _! It’s… it’s going to_ h-happen _it’s going to happen_ tomorrow _and I c-can’t stop it!” Lance wailed and broke down sobbing, releasing his grip on Shiro._

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_Shiro looked at him with concern and confusion in his eyes._

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_“Lance, listen to me, it wasn’t real. It was just a nightmare, nothing’s happening tomorrow, no one is going to die.”_

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_Lance’s only answer was his continued hiccoughs._

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_The two sat there for a while, Shiro trying to calm the other, while he himself tried to keep the darkness at bay. Eventually Lance’s sniffles stopped completely, and he clambered to a sitting position, a few meters from Shiro. He wiped at his tear stained face with a slightly embarrassed look._

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_“Th-thanks, Shiro.”_

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_Shiro nodded, relieved now that he was sure of Lance’s well-being. Shiro watched Lance for a moment, trying to gauge whether it was okay to talk about… whatever Lance had dreamt. Lance noticed the older man looking, and ducked his head._

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_“I-if you want to talk about it, th-that’s fine.”_

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_Shiro startled, “I should be asking you that, Lance. If you’re not comfortable with it, then it can always wait.”_

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_ “N-no. I, I want to. I _need _to.”_

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_“Lance, you don’t need to do anything; I would know. if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, then you shouldn’t force yourself--”_

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_ “No, Shiro, I need to warn you, and the rest of the team!” Lance was on his feet, tears gathering in his eyes again. “I, I know you think it was just a dream, but I know it wasn’t! Please, please trust me on this? I, I don’t know _how _or even why, but I’ve been having… I guess you could call them visions. I dream that something is going to happen before it does.”_

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_Lance must have taken Shiro’s confusion for disbelief, because he continued his tirade, voice raising in volume._

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_“Remember, last week, when Keith broke his arm in that fight? I dreamed that a few days before! And, and before, when Hunk and Pidge were caught in that explosion? That too!” Lance was nearly hysterical pacing his room, eyes wide and scared. Suddenly, he stopped, fists trembling by his sides._

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_“I dreamed about Pidge finding her brother. I dreamed about the Teludav accident. I dreamed...” his voice caught in his throat, and he looked up at Shiro._

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__“I dreamed about your death, Shiro."_ _

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Shiro came to a sudden stop, pulled out of his memory. He was standing in front of Lance’s open door, staring at the wide-eyed blue paladin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof, there's probably so many errors in this, maybe i'll look it over later.
> 
> Also, we'll find out what happened with "Shiro's Death" next chapter!
> 
> (btw, I now have an actual plan for this fic. It was initially meant to be a one-shot, but then it escalated. So! Also another reason why I'll be having chapters up more frequently)
> 
> If you have any criticism or just want to talk, please don't hesitate to comment!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so this is still Shlance??? I swear it’s not supposed to be, but...
> 
> Also, it’s hard to write emotions? Especially when you are a socially awkward teen??

“Lance.”

The name echoed down the castle hallway, reaching the owner’s ears with an odd clang. Lance hadn’t expected anyone to be in this part of the castle, and so was thoroughly surprised to see Shiro standing a few meters from his door. He considered going back into his room, but the damage was done; Shiro had seen him. Besides, the black paladin knew.

Lance thought back to that first night.

_“What?”_

__

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_Lance watched as a flurry of emotions crossed Shiro’s face. Fear, confusion, sadness, disbelief, and oddly enough relief. All flickering and melding together, creating a brand new emotion that Lance had no name for._

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_“When I dream about things, sometimes they’re completely clear. I know when, where, and how. But other times, it’s more hazy, and… I’m not sure. I can’t stop those, because I don’t know the details, I don’t know how to prevent things, and I can’t… I can’t help_ anything _,” furious tears leaked out of Lance’s eyes, trailing down his already wet cheeks._

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_“I dreamed that you were_ dying _, Shiro. You were covered in blood, and you were somewhere on a planet. It hurt, it hurt to see you like that and it hurt because I couldn’t help you. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t fix things. And it… I know that it’s going to happen tomorrow. And…” Lance’s voice caught, and he was looking everywhere but at Shiro. Hot tears dripped off his chin, leaving wet spots on the carpet and his shirt, but Lance was past caring._

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_“Shiro please,_ please _, promise me that we won’t go on that mission tomorrow! Something’s going to happen, and someone is going to die,” his eyes finally turned to the black paladin, filled with a frantic light._

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_Shiro looked taken aback, unsure of how to answer such a request. Lance might have laughed at his expression, if the memory of Shiro’s blank eyes wasn’t still fresh in his mind._

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_“Okay Lance, we won’t go.”_

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_Lance relaxed, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Shifting awkwardly, he lowered his head._

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_“Do you --,” Lance lifted his head when Shiro spoke._

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_“Do you want to tell the others? About these… visions?”_

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_Eyes widening, Lance shook his head violently. Absolutely not; he was not planning on telling_ any _of the other paladins._

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_“All right, it’s your call Lance,” Shiro walked over to the other and gently took one of his hands. “Just… you know that we are all here for you, okay?”_

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_Nodding, Lance released Shiro’s hand and turned around._

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_“So, heh, are we going to stand around all night, or should we get back to sleep?” Shiro nodded and walked out._

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_Lance crashed down on his bed and sighed._

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_He had thought it would end there; but no. Shiro, although discreet, asked him several times over the next few days whether the nightmares were better. Despite Lance shaking his head, and firmly stating that, yeah yeah, he was all better, things are okay now, the blue paladin had the distinctive feeling that Shiro did not believe him at all._

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_Which was made very apparent when Shiro showed up a week later, when Lance was having another dream. Screaming and thrashing, he’d likely woken Shiro. He, of course, knew who must be doing it, and did not write it off as the odd noises the castle makes. After that incident, Lance would often catch his superior throwing him odd looks, and Shiro sometimes tried to talk to him. Lance was not going to allow that, and so he went out of his way to avoid the black paladin._

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_Finally, Shiro walked in on Lance having a horrible nightmare, one where Hunk and Pidge were lying, their stomachs torn open by a stone beast living on the planet they were orbiting. Lance agreed to a ‘truce’, of sorts, and agreed to talk to Shiro about the nightmares, and tell him if things escalated. Since then, Lance had had a couple of really bad dreams…_

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...but the one last night really took the cake.

It was the first time Lance had dreamt about his own death. It was always one of the other paladins or the Alteans, sometimes a small group of them, but never before had he dreamt about _himself_. He thought back to the feeling of the creature’s claws ripping into his flesh, tearing his throat open…

Unconsciously, Lance raised a hand to his throat, but quickly lowered it when he remembered who was standing in front of him. With a sigh, he stepped to the side of the doorway. Flourishing his hands in mock defeat, Lance walked back into the darkened room, Shiro following him.

Lance sat down on his bed heavily, tilting to the side till his shoulder rested on the headboard. He watched as Shiro settled into the only chair. The two stared at each other for a bit, the older waiting for the younger to say something. Lance tried to find the words, but every time he opened his mouth to speak, something caught in his throat and he had to close it again. Feeling ill, Lance turned his head till it rested on the wall.

“So… are you alright? If you don’t want…”

Lance shook his head softly as Shiro trailed off. They both knew that Lance, even if he didn’t want to talk about his nightmares, would. There was too much at stake not to; the foresight had saved the team’s lives too many times already, and if there was even the chance that they could prevent another death… well.

Lance shuddered, and looked back up at Shiro.

“I dreamed about me.”

Shiro startled. Lance took a deep breath and continued.

“It, it started out in a long hallway. I don’t really know where it was, but it was really dark. There was some kind of animal, and they led me along the hallway until we reached an intersection. There… there was…” Lance swallowed hard, trying to suppress the urge to vomit. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to forget the way the broken bodies draped over each other, the stench of blood mingling and souring in his nose…

Gasping, Lance jumped off his bed and rushed to the bathroom. He crouched over the toilet bowl for the umpteenth time that day, and heaved.

He came back into the room a few minutes later, looking and feeling more awful than before. Tiredly, he turned his face towards Shiro and continued.

“There was another hall, and it was filled with people. They were dead,” swallowing again, Lance shook his head hard. “I wasn’t going to go in there, but my comms were dead and there was something moving down at the end… um, so I started walking down. The,” his voice cracked, and Lance coughed, trying to clear his throat. “The farther I went, the more bodies there were, and, um, they looked… um, so I got to the end, and there was _something_ ,” Lance wrapped his arms around himself, shaking lightly, “sitting there. It was... eating the, the bodies. A-and, I tried to leave, to get out before it noticed me, but it did and then it...” he trailed off, unable to put into words the sheer terror, the unadulterated fear that had been coursing through this veins. And then the pain. The pain had been so bad, so real and Lance had wanted more than anything to just _die_. How do you even begin to describe that?

So instead, Lance just drew his knees up to his chest and sobbed. He was vaguely aware of Shiro moving to his side and laying a hand on his back, but Lance made no movement to acknowledge it. Trembling and hiccoughing, he slowly calmed down. Lance wiped at his eyes in a vain attempt to dry them, and scooted closer to Shiro. Unwrapping his arms from his knees, Lance instead wound them around the older man.

“Shiro… I don’t want to have these dreams anymore… they _hurt_ , they hurt Shiro. Please help me,” Lance looked up at the black paladin with tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

“I need to know _why_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, y’all don’t need to roast me for all the errors in this, I’m tired and I wanted to post so... yeah... sorry.  
> Also I lowkey need to stop, I started about ten more fics instead of working on the two I have posted.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry Lance ~~not really, it’s going to get worse soon~~


End file.
